


Imitation

by Uakari



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Domestication, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-01
Updated: 2011-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-19 23:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uakari/pseuds/Uakari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If the father does it, the children will imitate!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imitation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Angst v. Fluff Olympics on LJ. This was for team fluff, prompt was "Parent and child"

 

It's funny, he thinks, keeping his eyes lightly closed, how quickly time passes, seasons change, people change, and yet Kurogane manages to stay the same. Oh, sure, there are the inevitable changes that come with age; the barest of creases have begun puckering the corners of his eyes, his hair is slightly shorter (though this is largely thanks to an over-zealous barber and has less to do with age or any mark of maturity) and the occasional greys have begun to sprout around his temples.  _Apart from this, though_ , he thinks,  _the ninja is still so_ …

" _Che_ …"

… _Predictable_.

It's seven o'clock. He knows this, not because he's acutely aware the angle of the sunlight spilling through the window or even because the clock on the bedside table is especially conspicuous with its brilliantly polished silver casing and rhinestone encrusted face. No, he knows it's seven o'clock purely by the  _particular_  derisive grunt directed toward him – less vicious than the guttural " _Tche_ " usually reserved for cursing exceptionally troublesome opponents or overly familiar manjuus, but slightly more petulant than the breezy " _Feh_ " that is usually accompanied by crossed arms and a curt nod and translates roughly to "Why yes, I suppose that is a moderately reasonable suggestion."

This particular " _Che_ " means the ninja has been awake since dawn – training, no doubt – and would very much like the tangle of limbs still nested within the pillows and blankets to believe that he is  _terribly_  offended by their laziness. It's also a not-so-subtle indication, the wizard has learned over the years, that he's hungry and would like breakfast soon,  _thankyouverymuch_.

 _Like some sort lizard-brained food gathering ritual_ , Fay smirks to himself.

His feet swivel instinctively toward the edge of the bed before he realizes what he's doing. He freezes, hoping he'll be able to play it off as shifting in his sleep; he's not in the mood to face the day just yet.

He squeezes his eyelids together and holds his breath _. Speaking of lizard-brained, how's_ that _for a conditioned response?_

There's no need for him to drag himself out of bed just yet. Today, they are in Clow – he's reminded by the parched air wafting through the balcony (though not parched enough to convince him to shrug off the heavy duvet) – and there are kitchens and servants and all sorts of food and dear  _gods_ , he hopes Kurogane had the decency to send someone to wake Syaoran or at the very least  _knock_  before he barged into Sakura's room and dragged the young man out to spar… He winces inwardly, images of Kurogane standing down the entire royal guard flitting through his mind.

He fights back a smile and turns his face into the pillow, allowing one eye to open a slit as the customary morning assault on the dresser commences with a  _BANG_.  _He never remembers_. This room has been designated as theirs for the past…gods, how many years have they been traveling? Surely enough that he feels no shame in laughing inwardly at the ninja's inability to remember that the bottom falls out of the sock drawer if it's yanked it too roughly.  _BANG_. And that the rest of the drawer is likely to collapse as well when that happens…

He stuffs down his laughter – it  _has_  been quite awhile since they've been here. Besides, he's about to miss the best part of the show…

It's the same way every morning. Socks always go on first – something Fay can never figure out and which amuses him to no end. Left leg goes first into his pants, and before he fastens them, he'll pull on his shirt and tuck it into the waistband. And pull it right back out again once he's finished. One last towel drying of the hair –

" _Gah_!"

Complete with grumbling upon finding that last little bit of soap behind his ear – because he  _knows_  he's rinsed there, dammit – and followed by the final _fwap_  of the towel being haphazardly flung over the mirror. Now the final shuffle to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything – he has, and it's invariably his ring that he refuses to wear to bed – and the final touch –

"Get up. I can tell you're not sleeping by your breathing."

" _Wah_. You're hopeless, Kuro-tan"

* * *

 A good husband is healthy and absent.  
 _-Japanese proverb_

 

The child of a frog is a frog.  
 _-Japanese proverb_

* * *

The only light in the room was a flickering candle, but it was more than enough to occupy his eyes and therefore more than enough to occupy his thoughts. "Mother?"

"Why are you still awake?"

He shifted restlessly across his bed mat, sprawling tired limbs out in every direction. "I can't sleep. When is father coming home?"

"Soon. It's very busy out of the borders – many new demons have appeared and he's working very hard to keep us all safe. Now rest; we have a long journey into the village tomorrow and you'll need to be strong. You'll be staying with your cousins for a few days – don't you want to be in top shape to run around with them?"

"But what if he comes back while we're away?"

"He would find us. He will always find us."

She sounded so sure, sure enough that he might have believed it, had it not sounded like something out of a children's story. "But how do you know?"

"Because we're his home, you silly boy. And you can always find your way home."

It still sounded like a children's story, or possibly a sappy romance story, but he didn't particularly want to think about romance and all the gross things that went along with it. Besides which, her voice was calming and the candle dying down. Far easier to take her word and drift to sleep.

* * *

The air at the top of the tower was much cooler than the apartment Daijoui-san (he couldn't think of her as just "Tomoyo," no matter how she had assured him that they shared a soul) had arranged for them so many floors below. It was a relief, really; while the indoor climate control systems Piffle used to keep their rooms cool during day – when the sun was blistering hot and probably threatened to melt the flimsy plastic-crap everything here seemed to be made of (it had been a rather unfortunate accident in the kitchen that had introduced him to just  _how_  easily the stuff could melt and, even more unfortunately, how… _uncomfortable_  the molten goo could be when applied directly to the skin) – did a decent job of keeping temperatures indoors constant, they generally tended toward the warm side of "comfortable," and there was something stifling about the smell. Something about a series of tubes and a condenser…Kurogane didn't really care – it was…musty, or something. Like an old wardrobe; a bit dank and certainly not fresh.

Not that the air out here was much of an improvement, with the faint smell of exhaust blowing through the wind and permeating every breath he took. This was the first technologically advanced world their journey had brought them to since leaving Clow, and the difference in air-quality was palpable. Still, the breeze was nice, and the night sky was relatively clear; a perfect night for lounging on the roof and enjoying the view.

Well, perfect apart for the quiet clanking against his arm…

"Will you stop picking at it?" Kurogane grumbled, extending his newly-fitted prosthetic out and away from the overly inquisitive wizard whose chest it was currently wrapped around, "You're going to break it before they even get the skin put over it."

Fay kicked his head back against Kurogane's midsection, where it was currently resting at a ninety degree angle, and snatched the mechanical arm back, trapping it beneath his shoulder and pinning it tightly in place. "It's not going to  _break_ , Kuro-sama," he scoffed and ran his fingers over the interlocking metallic levers, "I just want to see how it works." He tapped against the wrist, "Flex your fingers."

"No."

"Please?" Fay begged, slipping his own fingers between the mechanical ones and craning his face around to pout. "Fine," he mumbled when he found himself completely ignored, "I'll do it myself."

Kurogane could practically  _hear_  the idiot's grin sparkling and fizzing into the night as he bent and twisted the mechanical fingers and poked at the moving pistons in the forearm. It was an odd feeling, knowing on a visceral level that his fingers were moving, but not being able to  _feel_  the wiry, foreign fingers tugging at the joints and wrapping around the metallic levers. He breathed an audible sigh of relief as the fidgeting stopped, though he could still feel the fingers –  _his_  fingers – spread lightly, making room for Fay's restless counterparts to fit between. "Satisfied?" he demanded.

Fay clucked his tongue. "Kuro-rin is so selfish," he chastised half-heartedly, "He gets fancy new toys and he won't even share."

" _Tche_."

" _And_  he's grumpy," Fay hummed as Kurogane's other hand snaked its way across the bigger man's chest and yanked playfully at his hair, "But, I suppose that much is to be expected."

Kurogane was only too happy for the silence that followed – or near silence, at any rate; he did have to admit that the whizzing of dragonflies over head, even this late at night, had a certain musical quality to it. He tilted his head back onto the concrete to get a better look at the sky and absentmindedly twirled the ends of the blond pony-tail splashed across his chest around the ends his fingers. The stars here were disappointing, at least what he could see of them. The city lights penetrated deep into the night and shielded most of them from view. He could only pick out a handful of constellations, here, and only by their brightest stars. In Nihon, he'd been able to…

"What's wrong?" Fay's voice was quiet and devoid of its normal teasing lilt. Kurogane felt a slight tug at his prosthetic arm, but beyond that, the wizard remained still.

"Nothing," Kurogane tilted his chin downward for a better view of the hair tie his flesh fingers had worked their way into and were now tugging testily at, "Sky's irritating."

Fay reached back behind his head and swatted gently at Kurogane's fingers before pulling the tie loose himself and shaking his freed hair to splay out across the ninja's chest. "You're always irritated here," he murmured and pulled Kurogane's hand up to brush against his scalp.

Kurogane flexed his fingers into the blond roots. "We've only been here twice," he reminded Fay sharply, but resigned himself from arguing any further. As irksome as it was, the mage was right; he'd felt as on-edge here the past few days as he had for the entirety of their first stay. He would have brushed it all aside as nothing more than a heightened response to the obscene level of background noise that haunted the air here, but he was not really in the mood to lie to himself-

"It's her, isn't it?" Fay asked, voice barely above a whisper, "Tomoyo. She still reminds you of home."

"Mmm," Kurogane agreed. He wasn't much in the mood to get sucked into a game of twenty questions either.

"I can-" the wizard's voice cut off abruptly, as if it had caught in the back of his throat. "If you want," he began again, momentarily, "I can still take you back."

Kurogane allowed his fingers to extend, bringing his palm down against Fay's head as he allows these words to soak in. In another second, he's whipped his hand back up a few centimeters and brought it crashing back down against the blond crown with a satisfying  _crack_. "Dumbass."

"I'm just being observant, Kuro-tan," Fay murmured, though with considerably more vigor to his voice this time, "You're homesick again, and too stubborn to admit it."

" _Feh_ ," Kurogane breathed. It was a moderately reasonable suggestion, he supposed; there was an undeniable part of him that longed for nothing more than to return to Nihon, to reestablish himself as part of Princess Tomoyo's guard, to live out the rest of his life in relative stability…

But there was also an undeniable part that needed to see this journey through. More than that, a part that refused to break the bonds he'd formed with his traveling companions; the kid was doomed to wander time and space, and the mage… "You're not ready to stay in one place," he said simply.

Fay tensed just enough to shift the mechanical shoulder joint. "No," he agreed after a long moment, "I suppose I'm not."

It was fair enough. It was the first time in his life that the mage had been free to make his own decisions, wander as he pleased. He should have that. Someday, when the kids were grown and this impossible quest was completed (if it  _could_  be completed, he corrected himself with a hint of sadness), then he might be able to convince Fay to settle once again in Nihon. Until then, he was happy to let the matter rest, to go along with the flow of time, no matter how weaving and twisted theirs might prove to be. "Then I suppose we should keep traveling," he grunted decisively, and snaked his real hand down to cover the wizard's mouth and hold back any protests that might be forthcoming.

He was satisfied to feel teeth sink lightly into his index finger and pull his hand forward with a short nod.

* * *

The libraries at Clow are not the best collections that Fay has ever wandered through – they're completely lacking the old, must-scented texts that made Celes's libraries both comfortable and familiar, though Fay supposes this isn't really surprising, considering the acid rain and creeping desert that ravaged Clow's landscape for most of its history. The collections amassed by the royal family in the past generation are impressive enough in their own right, however – far-ranging and full of foreign knowledge – and reflect the emphasis placed on exploration and foreign relations that Sakura has brought to the court. Still, the texts that keep him returning to these halls are not foreign at all, but have been carefully compiled and edited by Yukito over the years, and comprise the sum total of Clow's magical knowledge and research. He's invariably fascinated by whatever rolls out on the scroll in front of him – Clow's magic is far different from what he studied in Celes, and it's always an adventure to see if he can coax some of the spells inscribed there to fruition.

"This isn't going to take all day this time, is it?"

He does wish Kurogane wasn't such a grumpass about the entire exercise every time they come here, though.

"Just a few hours, Kuro-tan," Fay soothes, gripping the ninja's shirtsleeve and dragging him along one of the massive, book-lined corridors, "Then you can go back to having manly staring contests with the prince, or arm wrestling the guards, or whatever it is you do in my absence."

" _Che_ ," Kurogane pulls back on his sleeve, but he wizard's grip is vice-tight, "You just want someone to test your little conjurations on, and no one else here is dumb enough to get sucked into being your guinea pig."

Fay has to laugh at this. "Don't be ridiculous, Kuro-rin," he trills, heading ever further in to the stacks, "I just need someone to interpret for me. And _you're_  the only one I trust to do it properly."

"I haven't forgotten the rabbit ears," Kurogane reminds him wryly, "Or the donkey tail."

"Oh, that was just for fun," Fay snips. He slows his steps as they approach a fork in the shelves as they splay out to accommodate the circular construction of the library, and debates which will be the quickest route to the priests' archives. In the end he can't remember (he knows he's written down notes somewhere in their tangled collection of belongings, but he doesn't put it past Kurogane to slip out of his sight in the time it will take to convince Mokona to cough them up), and opts for the left-ward split. It's increasingly noisey – shuffling paper and the occasional clatter of a dropped scroll – as they head further on, and Fay marvels at how much more use the library seems to be getting since their last-

Kurogane crashes into his back a second later; Fay is frozen in place, except for his jaw, which droops ever-lower to the floor as he gawps at the scandal unfolding in front of him.

"Damn it!" Kurogane curses, giving Fay a rough shove forward, "What are you-"

Fay spins back to face him, eyes wide and lips trembling, and reaches up to clap a hand over the ninja's mouth. He slaps his free index finger across his own lips, but doesn't dare to hiss out a warning " _shush_ " around it, instead nodding back toward the way they came.  _Flee_. That's what they need to do. Turn on their heels and  _run_  back to their rooms.

Kurogane wrests Fay's hand away with surprising ease for how forcefully the wizard has applied it to his mouth. "…the hell?" he mutters as he strong-arms Fay off to one side to get a better view down the aisle. And then, "Shit."

Fay thinks he should be laughing, or at the very least poking some amount of fun at Kurogane's reaction, but he's having difficulty finding humor in the situation just now and, ever a glutton for punishment, turns his own head back toward the scene to confirm that Kurogane has, in fact, just witnessed the same jumbled up mess he had.

The jumbled up mess is, of course, still there, completely oblivious to the rest of the world, and too occupied with sloppy kisses and wandering hands to care. Fay is almost certain that Sakura's dress had accompanying bloomers with it at breakfast this morning, but those seem to have gone the way of Syaoran's pants, which are currently dangling from a light-fixture mounted so far off the ground that Fay can only guess at how they got there. And there is giggling and panting and all sorts of noises that a parent should never hear their children making-

He nearly loses his footing as a sharp tug at his elbow pulls him back, but falls compliantly into step with Kurogane a moment later as they wind their way back to the entrance. His mind is a whirl –  _did that really just happen?_ Did they honestly just barge in on Syaoran and Sakura –  _their children, for the love of all that is holy!_ – engaged in intimate squelching in the middle of the goddamned library? He feels his feet slowing and dragging across the stone floor as the full force of what he's just witnessed barrels its way into his chest. Kurogane stops, sighing audibly, and lifts Fay's chin to stare him in the eyes. Fay reels and takes a step backwards.

Kurogane is  _smiling_.

Flabbergasted, Fay just stares for a moment, his nose pulling higher and higher up onto his face. "What are you…?" he begins, but forgets entirely what he was about to say.

Kurogane crosses his arms across his chest and quirks an eyebrow. "Don't tell me this is some sort of shock to you," he half-growls, half-laughs, "They're not kids anymore. Haven't been for a long time."

Fay scowls. He doesn't like Kurogane laughing, and certainly not at him. He  _knows_  they aren't kids and he  _knows_  that they've probably been up to all manner of horrible, indescribably filthy acts whenever they come back to Clow, but  _seeing_  is different from sort of  _knowing_  and he really, really wishes he could unsee that. He can't believe his little girl would be so… _indiscreet_ -

" _Oi_ ," Kurogane barks and shakes his chin.

"Sorry," Fay mumbles and lifts his chin from Kurogane's grip, rubbing at the tip, "I just wasn't expecting that…"

Kurogane snorts – with  _humor_ , which sends a fresh shockwave of irritation roiling through Fay – and rakes a hand through his hair. "Says the Protector Regent of Public Indecency."

"Don't joke, Kuro-sama," Fay snaps, "It doesn't suit you. And what do you mean by  _that_?"

"Oh come on," Kurogane says, "How many times has that kid walked in on us? And in worse places than a deserted library?"

"I-" Fay attempts a quick tally and gives up as soon as he runs out of appendages. He sighs; he supposes they really haven't been the best of role models in this regard, though he finds it difficult to regret much. It's just as he used to scold Kurogane – if the father does it, the children will imitate! – though this particular albatross is a bit weightier than he'd imagined when slung around his own neck.  _Besides which_ , "That was all so long ago," he mumbles.

" _Che_ ," Kurogane scoffs halfheartedly, "Can't have been that long ago."

"Yes," Fay answers, dumbly, "It was." Far too long ago, he realizes, and this is suddenly more upsetting than the eyeful he's just been treated to. He eyes Kurogane warily. He can't actually remember the last time they got up to any sort of public squelching. Come to think of it, it's been a long while since they got up to any in private either… Most nights are just the standard peck on the lips, flip the lights, and snuggle under the covers. Which isn't necessarily  _bad_ , but it  _is_  kind of boring in the grand scheme of things, and he knows full too well what boredom does to wandering men…

 _When_ , exactly, had the tables turned? How had he become the stumbling, dumbstruck, butt-of-the-joke? He searches Kurogane's face for an answer, but only finds more confusion there.

"What's wrong, now?" Kurogane demands sharply.

Fay bites his lip and allows an altogether too-familiar, though recently disused, smile creep onto his face. "Nothing, Kuro-sama," he says, completely unconvincingly, and slips his arm through Kurogane's, "Let's go find some lunch, shall we?"

He can hear the resigned sigh that Kurogane tries to silence as it spills past his lips, feel the trepidation in the ninja's muscles as they head toward the exit, and knows that this mask is not what it used to be. Still, this is Kurogane –  _his Kurogane_ – and he'll likely not need it for much longer. He smiles a bit more genuinely at that thought, and grips tighter at the ninja's arm as they push through the doors.

* * *

 A heart melted by affection must be dammed with desire and locked with lust, lest it splash across the neighboring valley.  
 _Celesian Proverb_

 

Naughty boys aren't the only ones who need a spanking.  
 _Kujaku's Guide to Loving Your Neighbor_ , First Edition 

* * *

 **  
_King:_   
**   
_a sovereign or monarch who holds by life tenure, and usually by hereditary right, the chief authority over a country and its people._

 **  
_General:_   
**   
_an officer of the armed forces holding the highest rank, subservient only to the king._

The courts at Celes were certainly anything but dull. Court intrigue was, by its very definition… _intriguing_. Everyone knew the ambassador from Wyndam was carrying on an illicit affair with Ashura's head minister, and had been for the past five years (and probably longer than that – no one really knew for sure, though the birth of a blond haired, hazel eyed daughter to the dark haired, dark eyed Wyndamian couple four years earlier had established a bit of a constraint on the latest possible start date). Likewise, everyone knew to hide their daughters and their sons whenever General Bishamonten returned to Ruval from his post in the outer territories, lest they be returned a week later, limping from exertion and reeking of cooking oil.

All of this paled in comparison, however, to the intrigue and rumors surrounding His Highness Ashura himself. The king had married some years earlier as part of peace negotiations with the Duke of Ostwald in the eastern territories – Shashi, the youngest of the Duke's daughters, joined Ashura on the throne in return unilateral disarmament. Much like her father, though, Queen Shashi was notorious amongst the court for her fiery temper and complete distain for anyone or anything not of direct use to her own whims. It had taken her less than half a year to restyle the whole of Ruval to her liking and less than that again to abandon it completely, fleeing back home to her father in the dead of the night. Ashura, for his part, hadn't seemed overly concerned with her departure – "relieved" was the word most often thrown about in casual discussions of her disgrace – and allowed her to keep her title and upheld the treaties without much fuss. The rest of the court, to the great surprise of the gossip publications, hadn't kicked up much of a fuss either, though it was unclear whether this was an act of obeisance to their king, or simply because the empty space in the king's bed was soon filled by a much more exciting and contentious figure.

Ashura had always kept his legions well filled with the strictest and most volatile soldiers he could amass, and those who rose through the ranks tended to be the boldest and brashest of all. In this respect, General Taishakuten was little different from the rest – perhaps more ruthless and self-assured than most, though this was merely a matter of degree – but his mannerisms at court (where most generals preferred to garner favor with the nobility) were cold and cruel, setting him apart and leaving an icy air of mystery floating in his wake that tantalized his on-lookers and spawned endless tales of his prowess, both on the battlefield and off.

Fay never understood the fits of shock and vapors that whispers of the king's escapades with General Taishakuten would send the court into. It wasn't as if they were any better themselves, with their longing gazes and indiscreet liaisons between bouts of verbal warfare over taxation and land occupancy; by the third year of his tenure in Ruval, Fay had amassed an almost encyclopedic knowledge of public indecencies through their gossip alone. It didn't shock him in the least to know that the man he looked on as his father was enjoying his new lover to his full potential, nor did he find it especially strange that they had elected to conduct their affair in full view of the public. The king should be allowed his happiness, after all, just like any man.

The only thing to shock young Fay – as he discovered, quite by accident, one late winter night – was how willingly King Ashura let slip any semblance of his Kingly role in trysts with Taishakuten. He was unlikely to see the king dominated by any other man in the kingdom.

Fay had tiptoed quietly back to his bedroom after that, marveling at the change in social dynamics sex could bring.

* * *

Kurogane douses himself one final time with the wooden bucket, splashing away the last of the suds that still cling to his skin, and eases into the warm water of the bath. It's not quite as warm as he usually likes – the blistering desert air makes anything more than moderately heated unbearable – but it is indisputably relaxing still to let the water envelop him, slipping around the sharper angles of his body and soaking away the sweat and grit of his already-long day.

It's only five thirty – barely early evening – but he's already feeling the strain of the seemingly endless schedule of  _things_  he must do here. More than any other world they visit, Clow always feels like a whirlwind of activity; whatever it is they're meant to accomplish here is always dangling just beyond their reach, though none of them seem to have any qualms about chasing after it at full-speed. It ought not to be this way, Kurogane thinks – this is one of the few worlds they pass few that doesn't require them to work for food and shelter or indulge Syaoran's over-the-top research ethics. In theory, they ought to be able to relax here, and yet every time he finds himself clinging tightly to the spare moments he has alone, savoring the quiet. The mage always insists that it's the sheer number of people they know here, the tightness of the bonds between themselves and Clow, but, for all Kurogane knows, it could just as well be the heat getting to him, making him slow and sluggish.

Not that he'll admit to  _being_  slow and sluggish, of course.

He checks the clock on the ledge before closing his eyes. Twenty minutes until he's expected for dinner. Or dinner party. Or whatever it is Sakura has planned for them this particular night – he really ought to be keeping better track, but he knows that Fay will have all of it memorized and will recite it to him at the slightest provocation. Which is fine, really – if he wants to be a walking datebook, then Kurogane certainly isn't going to complain for having one less thing to worry about.

He breathes deeply and shades his eyes against the low-angled sunlight beating down against his lids. He's careful not to let himself slip too far into relaxation, lest he nod off completely, and so is acutely aware of the quiet shuffle just beyond the tub and the subtle rise in water level that follows. He cracks an eye open and glowers half-heartedly, "You forgot to wash again."

Fay shrugs from the opposite end of the tub and pulls the binding from his hair, shaking the freed fringe around his shoulders. "Syaoran says you can wash  _in_  the tub here," he says lightly, completely ignoring the disgusted face Kurogane is pulling, "And besides which, I'm nowhere near as filthy as you."

" _Hmph_ ," Kurogane tilts his head back against the tub ledge and pushes a wave of water down toward the opposite end, "Wash  _quietly_ , then."

"Of course, Kuro-sama," Fay sings, and mostly stays true to his word. There is the requisite sloshing and shifting and the distinct odor of something fruity wafting toward across the room, but Kurogane remains otherwise undisturbed. At least for a few minutes, anyway, though he supposes he's not really surprised when he finds his thighs straddled by a sopping wet wizard minutes later. Kurogane flexes his knees and brings Fay slip-sliding into his lap and looking altogether too pleased with the situation. Kurogane smirks and resettles into his stupor, lazily bringing one hand to rest at the small of Fay's back. He can't bring himself to care that the wizard has once again deluged his crystal clear bathwater with cloudy suds, or splashed an obnoxious amount of water over the rim of the tub, or even invaded his space so thoroughly – the air is too warm, the water too wet, and the weight in his lap too comfortable. The fruity scent is growing a bit too strong for his liking, however… "What are you doing?" he mumbles, cracking an eye open to catch a glimpse of the bubble soaked sponge Fay is kneading into an ever greater lather, " _I'm_  clean."

"Nonsense," Fay chides and twines his fingers between Kurogane's, pulling the hand from his back and extending it out to the side, "You missed this patch behind your ear again." He swipes with his free hand and deposits the fizzing blob of suds on Kurogane's nose. "You obviously can't be trusted."

"Hmph." Kurogane squeezes and bends Fay's wrist back –just a bit – for that, but lets the wizard suit himself. The sponge is rougher than the cloth he normally uses, and he can't deny that he enjoys the sharp scrape of tiny teeth against his skin or the warm rivulets of water that cascade down after and soothe away the sting. Fay finishes with his arms and chest and drags the sponge below the water, tracing slow circles across his abdomen and sides. Kurogane groans a bit as Fay drops the sponge altogether, abandoning it to float away in the murky water, and slides his fingertips up the ninja's rib cage, the pads of his thumbs pressing firmly into the dips between each bone and pausing to rub at his nipples, half-wet finger prints catching against the sensitive skin with a slip-jerky rhythm.

The rush of blood and heat to his groin is instantaneous and he lifts his hips smoothly, seeking whatever friction he might find under the water's surface, and pulls the wizard closer. He'd be quite content to stay like this for the rest of the evening, if it weren't for the gnawing ache in the back of his mind that they're supposed to  _be_  somewhere, soon. Probably somewhere important, where they'll be missed and called after…

His eyes snap open to focus on the clock. " _Shit_."

"What's wrong, Kuro-rinta?" Fay mumbles dreamily and drips a palmful of water down his chest.

 _Five minutes._  "We have to go," Kurogane rumbles, "Gonna be late. Come on." He attempts to shift Fay backward, but the wizard wraps his arms around his neck and refuses to be budged. Kurogane sighs exasperatedly as lips graze over his own, eventually subsuming them whole, and a warm tongue invades his mouth.  _Why is he doing this right now?_  It's not as if they're lacking for time, and with their own private room here, they're not even lacking for privacy! He shakes his knees, sending Fay bobbing up and down. "Come on," he insists, like a broken record, "We need  _ungh_ …" His stern expression melts as Fay's hand wraps around his cock – _squeezes_  – and a jolt of electricity runs straight up to his breast bone.

" _Let's stay_ ," Fay breathes steadily into his ear and stands all the hairs up the back of his neck to attention.

"We-" Kurogane grips the edge of the bathtub as Fay rolls his thumb across the crown of his quickly growing erection. " _Stop that_ ," he manages to catch the wizard's wrist with his other hand and wrestle it above the surface of the water, "We can't." He stares meaningfully at Fay and suddenly feels as if he's just kicked a goddamned puppy; the mage's face falls with spectacular speed and is almost as swiftly replaced by that goddamned fake smile that turns Kurogane's stomach.  _What the hell is going on here?_  "Hey," he barks – not harsh enough to convey any sort of irritation, but strong enough to catch the wizard's attention – and bring's Fay's face down for a chaste kiss on the lips, "The kids are expecting us. Quit being ridiculous."

He's expecting a playful whine, a half-hearted sock to the shoulder,  _anything_  but the scowl that he receives at the mention of the children.  _Still not over this afternoon in the library_ , Kurogane decides and reaches for the wooden bucket he's left next to the tub. With a smirk, he fills it and dumps the contents over the wizard's head, wriggling free of the confining tangle of limbs in his lap with the temporary shock this delivers. "Up," he insists, hauling himself out of the tub, and offers a hand back. Fay continues to scowl at him for a second, looking for all the world like an angry, drown rat, but eventually accepts and follows the ninja back to their room to dress.

* * *

Fay tilted the brim of his top hat down over his eyes and quickly ducked out the back flap of the tent before the manager could ask him just  _where_  he'd pulled that rabbit from for his final act or  _why_  it had such enormous teeth. He hadn't planned on resorting to  _actual_  magic as part of his act, but then, he hadn't planned on the crowd here being so difficult to please, either. A violent lot they were, too – even the children had screamed to see the blood after his "saw my lovely assistant in half" trick. Poor Syaoran had bolted (just as soon as he'd managed to kick off the glittering pair of high heels) after Fay had opened the hatch on the lower box backstage during their act break, and had last been seen somewhere in the vicinity of the lion's cage, rocking back and forth and muttering to himself about the abominable inevitability of circuses and ladies clothing. Fay hoped he was alright – they still had three days left on their contracts here (assuming Mokona's earring didn't start glowing in the interim), and with the owners providing them a tent to sleep in and food to eat along with their meager pay, it was as good a job as any they were likely to find in the this rural section of whatever world they had landed in this time.

Besides which – this circus was a good fit for them. The operators had been in need of a magician after their main act had taken ill the week before, and even if Fay wasn't able to use real magic, his sleight of hand skills were still better than most (even Kurogane had been forced to concede that much, though he had demanded his underwear back after Fay's little "demonstration"). Syaoran was versatile enough to fit into a number of acts here, but had chosen to work as one Fay's assistants – possibly because the other assistant – a young, green-eyed girl with ginger hair – reminded him of Sakura, but probably because the troop of giggling acrobats seemed to stare and make bawdy gesture less often Fay or Kurogane were present…

And the big brute himself… _well_! Fay had to hand it to whomever designed the costumes here. He'd never seen a singlet actually look  _good_  on someone, let alone ooze as much liquid sex as the one the carnival "Strong Man" currently had stretched over his rippling torso. It might have been because he'd never seen a singlet with the thighs cut quite so high, or the back quite so low, but all of that seemed incredibly secondary, at the moment, to the fact that Kurogane was, against all logic and probably several laws of physics, bending a cast iron rod over his head while simultaneously crushing several oak doors into splinters between his thighs. It was fortunate that Piffle's technicians were skilled enough and the synthetic skin they had fitted durable enough to still mask the machinery beneath flawlessly after all this time (Had it really been two years since their last visit? He wondered if they would return a third time…), though he wouldn't have expected any less from people working under Tomoyo. Fay had to admit he was a little impressed, and definitely more than a little turned on. It was rare enough to see the full force of him when Kurogane was fighting – to see it when he was all oiled up and on public display…it was a rare sight to say the least.

And, if the expression on his face as he flung the folded bar across the stage and dusted the wood shards from his legs was anything to judge by, it was about to become even more rare. Oh well, it was good he'd snuck out when he had, then. Fay waded through the crowd toward the side of the stage, where he worked up his best grin to greet the ninja with as he descended the short staircase there.

Kurogane took one look at him and gripped the lapels of his jacket, hauling him up onto the toes of his shoes as he unceremoniously dragged him back behind the tatty curtain that marked the back of the stage.

"Getting quite into your act, aren't you?" Fay coughed as he slumped against the thick oak pillar Kurogane had backed him against. He straightened his jacket and cocked and eyebrow. "Though really, if you wanted to impress the crowd, you could have lifted me rather than just dragging me," he ran an idex finger around the inside of his collar, tugging and twisting to loosen the bunches that had formed beneath his bowtie, "Might have saved me a bit of choking, too…"

"I've had enough of this," Kurogane snapped, "Where is that manjuu?"

"Mokona?" Fay frowned. He hadn't actually seen her since early this morning, but she had seemed enormously eager to get into her role as the petting zoo keeper. "She's probably herding goats by now," he pouted his lips and reached a hand up to caress Kurogane's cheek, "What's wrong, Kuro-tan? I thought you would have liked showing off for all these people. You're not still upset that they wouldn't let you bring Ginryuu on stage, are you? You _know_  it's so much more impressive when the strong man breaks things with his bare hands."

" _Che_ ," Kurogane scoffed, pointedly ignoring the fingers snaking into the back of his waistband. "It's all fake," he spat, "The bars, the wood, the weights – it's a joke!"

"Of course it's fake, Kuro-rinta," Fay chuckled, "It's a backwater circus! It's just cheap entertainment!" Really, this couldn't be  _that_  bad for him, could it? It wasn't as if the work itself was terribly taxing, and Kurogane really hadn't seemed to be having all that hard of a time giving the people a decent show. Fay studied the quavering sneer looming above him, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Are you still so shy?" he teased, working his finger along the seam of the tight-fitting suit from Kurogane's waist band, across his side, and pausing just at the lower boundary of his chest where the fabric tapered into the long straps that rode over his shoulders.

Kurogane snorted. "I think I'm pretty well used to wearing ridiculous clothes in public, no thanks to you."

Fay pulled the fabric back to snap against the ninja's chest. "I was referring to being on  _stage_ , Kuro-sama. But now that you mention it, this little get up really shows off your, um, assets."

" _Feh_ ," Kurogane snorted, "It'll do."

Fay grinned wickedly and ran one open palm down the ninja's torso; the other he wriggled between them to fish through the inner pockets of his jacket. "Mmm," he agreed, rising up onto his tip-toes to steal a kiss, "At least  _something_  around here is real."

Kurogane quirked an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a grin starting to tease at the corners of his mouth, but his expression was quickly diverted into something straddling the thin line between "confused" and "imminent berserk" by the sudden explosion of something warm and slick to his abdomen. "What the…?"

Fay grinned and waggled a bottle labeled "oil" under Kurogane's nose. "Your left side was looking a bit less glossy than the right," he explained, his expression the picture of innocence, "Thought I would even things up." His fingers worked in careful circles across the ninja's chest, smearing and coaxing the oil across the skin there.

"You  _bastard_ ," Kurogane hissed through clenched teeth, "Where did you get that?"

"From Umi," Fay sang, continuing his casual molestation, "She said she wouldn't be around today to help keep you oiled up and presentable for the crowd, so I might as well have at it."

Kurogane's lip pulled back into a sneer. "That might be because she seems to have suddenly and inexplicably sprouted a beard," his eyes widened meaningfully, "Which I'm sure  _you_  know nothing about."

"Me?" Fay's face drew taught at the scandalous accusation, "Kuro-pon! I would  _never_!" He rubbed more firmly at Kurogane's skin. "Besides, that will teach her to look so smug about it."

"You gave her that horrendous beard."

"Kuro-tan!" Fay admonished, "Don't go making fun of a poor young lady with an obvious glandular problem like that. It's not horrendous at all. It's quite lovely – matches the drapes and everything. Now if it matches the carpet as well, I couldn't say. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to show  _you_ , though-"

"You have  _no_  shame."

"I have plenty of shame," Fay assured him, "And now she does, too."

"Mmm," Kurogane narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, breathing hot and heavy against Fay's ear, "You didn't stop to consider that I might  _like_  a bit of facial hair, now did you? Like the sensation of sharp little daggers scraping across my face…"

Fay's eyes darted thoughtfully to the tops of their sockets. "Hmm," he mused, "I see where I may have gone wrong here."

"Very wrong."

"You're always full of surprises, Kuro-rinta," Fay leaned back into the post to put a few inches of room between himself and Kurogane's insistent stare. "I suppose there's only one thing for it, then," he grinned and quickly scribbled a sigil in the air, which molded itself to his chin and drew forward in short order, dragging out a long growth of blond behind it. "You like?"

Kurogane choked –  _laughed_ , Fay realized, but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut – at the sight of it and craned his neck back for a better appraisal. "It's-" he frowned.

"Stunning? Gorgeous? Irresistible? Magically delis-" whatever other descriptors he might have had stored up for the occasion were quickly silenced as Kurogane gripped the coiling tendrils and yanked him forward into a dizzying, if needlessly violent, kiss.

Kurogane released him momentarily, licking his lips and massaging his chin between thumb and forefinger as he pulled away. "Get rid of it."

"Huh?" Fay smacked his lips together, still fixated on Kurogane's mouth.

"Get  _rid_  of it," Kurogane repeated and tugged lightly at the end of the beard, "It's… _irritating_."

Fay's eyes sparkled. "But it's so gruff and  _manly_ ," he teased, "I thought that was what you wanted. Or is it just the beard-rash you're afraid of?"

"Get rid of it," Kurogane insisted, but moved back in to crush their lips together once again. Fay smirked beneath him, but obliged, and with a twinkling of blue magic, the shag retreated back into his pores. Kurogane's hand moved to cup his jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing the contours of Fay's lips, pulling his mouth further open and easing his tongue forward to fill the gap. Fay happily accepted the intrusion and slid one hand down the ninja's torso to grope wantonly between his legs. He hummed mischievously and cracked one eye open.

"Oh dear," he murmured against Kurogane's mouth, "I don't think they designed this suit with enough stretch..."

"Shut up," Kurogane nipped at his lip and Fay unconsciously ground his hips forward, "Are you on again today?"

"What?" Fay was lost in the sensation of skin and muscle rippling beneath his palm as he ran one hand across Kurogane's slick shoulders and the pleasing throb of the other man's cock beneath the other. " _Oh_ ," he tilted his head back, forcing his neck forward to allow Kurogane's roving mouth better access, "Yes, I have to be back in a half-"

"Good," Kurogane cut him off, "I've only got fifteen minutes. Have to make this quick." And without another word, hoisted Fay by the lapels of his jacket and ducked beneath the stage, dragging the dazed magician after him.

* * *

 Beginning is easy, continuing difficult.  
 _-Japanese proverb_

* * *

 **  
_Amaterasu:_   
**   
_the title bestowed upon the Empress of Nihon; the divine ruler, descended from the great Sun Goddess herself, who is worshipped and revered by all those inhabiting the country’s borders._

Kurogane knew her better as Kendappa, the nosy older-sister-he-never-wanted who couldn’t keep her hands off her girlfriend. He couldn’t count anymore how many not-so-discreet fondlings he had witnessed, how many dewey-eyed, longing-stares he had rolled his eyes toward, how many half-whispered confessions of love he had pretended not to hear…

It had been a startling, but not at all unwelcome surprise to find them both so…intimately settled – as comfortable without one another as with and free of the need to constantly reassure the other of their undying devotion. It had become unspoken.

Or perhaps it had just been the band of injured travelers that had fallen into their care that forced them into stricter roles. Or whatever. Kurogane tried not to think too hard on these things.

* * *

Kurogane has never figured out how someone who is capable of writing out such intricate, squibbly… _things_  can be so bad with chopsticks. Especially after all this time, though he does have to concede that he’s the one who usually gets so fed up with the wizard’s half-assed attempts that he practically throws forks at him whenever they’re available. He no longer secretly believes that the wizard is doing it on purpose – though this doesn’t stop him from flinging the accusation along with the occasional scowl at the other – but he can’t help but feel slightly irked as he watches one stick sliding slowly past Fay’s knuckle as he tries (and fails) to pinch a dumpling. Sighing, he hooks his index finger around the chopstick and pulls it back into the crook of the wizard’s thumb.

 “Hold it like a-”

“-Pencil,” Fay half-chuckles behind a half-smile, “Thank you, Kuro-sensei. My apologies –  _again_  – for being such a poor student.”

“Mmph.” He’d like to remind Fay that even school children have mastered eating utensils, but settles for taking a swig of wine from his cup. It’s a good decision; Sakura has undoubtedly brought out the finest of Clow’s reserves to celebrate their return and the crisp apple liquor is far more satisfying than any verbal sparring as it slides down his throat. He turns to offer his praise-

And stops, feeling a smirk creep across his face as he eyes the princess and the kid ( _Not really a kid anymore_ , he thinks, though Syaoran is never going to outgrow the term of endearment). They are completely engrossed in each other ( _again_ , he snickers silently) – much to the chagrin of the crown prince of Clow, who is staring meaningfully at their father, silently begging him to do something about the scene they’re causing – and moreover, completely oblivious to how far removed they are from everyone and everything around them. He’s… _happy_ , really, to see them like this – despite the somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere – and even though he knows he ought to be scowling about the impropriety of it all, he can’t help but let his face relax into a quiet grin. The kid –  _Syaoran_  – spends far too much time on their journey mooning about with a wistful look on his face, burying himself in ancient literature and otherwise keeping himself as occupied as humanly possible, and Kurogane knows he is alone, even when surrounded by the wizard and himself. It’s become more obvious, lately, as they’ve all grown past the ages where pretending to be a traveling family might have been appropriate and Syaoran has taken to rooming by himself whenever possible. And so Kurogane looks away, happy to oblige them whatever bit of privacy they might find here, and turns back to the wizard at his side.

Fay is staring at the kids –  _the couple_  – with the same look of utter terror on his face that he’d worn that afternoon and Kurogane sucks in a breath, preparing himself for the inevitable parental rant that is about to come roaring out of the mage’s mouth and splatter gracelessly across the fancy dinner settings. (He’d been lucky this afternoon – lunch had been a surprisingly effective distraction – though he’s been trying to not think too hard on the occasional reemergence of that that stupid fake smile… ) He’s spared the embarrassment, however, by Prince Touya standing suddenly and proposing a toast to the travelers continued health and future safe returns. In truth, the prince looks every bit as flustered as the wizard, though his particular expression is laced with something far more venomous than Fay’s. Kurogane catches the high priest’s eye from across the table; Yukito winks and snickers silently, Kurogane only rolls his eyes. He’s more than happy to drink to this, though, and he has to admit that the faces the kids – dammit,  _not kids!_  – pull with their sudden jolt back to reality are priceless. So he raises his glass and drains the contents – hopefully they will find the blessings the prince wishes on them because lord only knows how long they have left on this journey.

Dinner is finished with the usual ceremony and solemnity that usually accompanies meals in Clow, though Fay does his best to interrupt the quiet flow of the evening by shoveling bits and bobs of root vegetables that he’s declared unfit to consume onto Kurogane’s plate. Kurogane is sure the wizard thinks he’s being discreet – he’s making much less noise about the entire exercise than he normally does, at any rate – but they’re still earning a set of raised eyebrows from the queen. He elbows Fay beneath the table, but only receives a petulant “ _mmph_ ” and an extra helping of steamed rutabaga for his efforts.  _Typical_. His only relief is knowing that he’ll be able (and probably expected) to pawn off most of whatever they’re served for dessert on the idiot.

The conversation has moved onto something painfully boring regarding their irrigation system, but Sakura is jubilant about it – apparently this is the first major kingdom-wide project to fall directly under her control – and so he nods and encourages her in his own way (which he will likely be chastised for later tonight, for not being enthusiastic or peppy or whatever-flamboyant-adjective-the-mage-is-inspired-to-conjure-up-on-this-particular-night enough, but to hell with it). She’s practically glowing with pride, going into far too much detail about engineering and processes that fly right over his head, but it’s fine because she just looks so damned  _happy_ …and he’s always had a soft spot for princesses.  

He’s about to open his mouth and finally congratulate her on the project, but his lips are suddenly drawn into a tight line and his eyes cast irritably off to his side. There is a hand on his thigh, squeezing – groping – and working its way north with all the slipperiness of someone who practices writing out those damned squibbly… _things_  on a regular basis. He breathes out a near-inaudible huff of disgruntlement and quickly reaches below the table to clamp his own hand around the explorer, but the wiry fingers slip from his grip; they’re there at the crease of his thigh, digging into his trousers, prodding ever further and poking into his-

He glares. The words “what the hell are you doing, idiot?” trace themselves silently across his taught lips, but Fay only grins manically back at him, and he wonders how this is the same moron who was so scandalized by the kids public display mere minutes before. He yanks the hand firmly away from his leg and is treated to an overly dramatic pout in turn. 

Fay drains the last of the wine from his glass and quickly motions for a servant to bring him more. Instead of surrendering his glass to be filled, however, Fay simply excuses himself and removes the entire bottle from the serving tray to set at the edge of his place setting. Kurogane rolls his eyes and half expects this to be met with angry glares from the royal end of the table, but Sakura’s family members are far too used to Fay’s antics by now and only chuckle lightly. Prince Touya smirks at Kurogane and lifts his own glass to toast the wizard.

This is going to end badly, Kurogane realizes. (Or, if not badly, then at the very least with a massive headache for himself tonight and an even larger one for the mage in the morning – he can’t drink like he used to, though it doesn’t stop him from trying when the occasion arises.) Touya is now refilling his own and Yukito’s glasses and offering a bottle to his father, who is looking far too happy at the prospect.   The legion of advisors and other officials lining the table take their cue from the royal family and start draining their own glasses; Fay is sipping down the remains of his latest glass – bottle still in hand for easy refilling – and leaning heavily against Kurogane in a way that suggests he is far more drunk than he ought to be. (Far more than he probably is, too, Kurogane notes with a bit of suspicion. Just what is he playing at tonight?) He allows it only because everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves, and well, he isn’t making too much of a scene (not yet, anyway) and sighs as he fills his own glass.

The next hour – two hours? three? – are spent prying wiry arms away from his neck, warding off wandering fingers from his crotch, and generally convincing an increasingly intoxicated wizard that he’s chosen the  _worst of all possible places_  to start acting like an over-sexed teenager. More than anything, he feels the sting of embarrassment creeping up from beneath his collar and washing out his expressions, choking off his contributions to what might otherwise be an interesting dinner conversation. 

“You didn’t  _used_  to mind,” Fay hisses at him as he gives the wizard a hearty shove back onto to seat of his own chair, and Kurogane has to admit that he’s even  _more_  confused, now. He stares cockeyed at Fay for a moment before rolling his eyes and giving in –  _just a little bit_  – and allows Fay to drape an arm across his shoulders.

Fay is still clinging to him hours later when Kurogane hauls him off to bed.

* * *

Fay landed squarely on his ass and was more than a little surprised when he  _bounced_ , rather than crashed to the floor of the tent Kurogane had (almost recklessly) tossed him into. On second glance, he realized that it wasn’t a tent,  _per se_ , really more of an inflatable children’s toy – a bear-shaped orange monstrosity with jeweled wings – meant for jumping on and in, and certainly not the most  _discreet_  place Kurogane could have chosen at the moment.  But then again, it probably wasn’t possible to get much  _more_  discreet in the middle of a beer festival that the entire town (and most of the neighboring towns) had shown up for. Besides which, the lights from the not-so-distant booths and tents played giddily across the canvas, throwing a bizarre mixture of yellow rays and black shadows against the floor and generally lending a dreamily pleasant atmosphere to the enclosure. Fay currently estimated their position (he wasn’t sure, he’d been hauled up by his button-holes and slung across the ninja’s shoulder –without even being allowed to finish his beer! – after one too many suggestive comments, gropes, or… _something_  else – he was well into his seventh or eighth (or possible thirteenth or fourteenth – who was keeping count?) glass of the night and his Kuro-molestations were not really as coldly calculated as he normally liked) to be on the outskirts of the festival, and, judging by the décor, probably in the children’s section. The music and laughter continued off in the distance - a row rumble of a reminder that this is far from private. Not that he really minded – too much, anyway – and scrambled to kick off his boots as he felt the floor rising beneath him from Kurogane’s weight pressing down at the entrance, where he hastily tied the flaps together.

Fay rubbed at his face and shook his head, “This is awfully bold of you, Kuro-sama,” he laughed, “It’s a kids’ toy!”

“It’s fine,” Kurogane insisted, and began unlacing the monstrous knee-high boots that covered him from toe to knee, “It’s closed.”

“ _Ahaha_ ,” Fay laughed and collapsed backwards onto the inflated mat, “And I suppose everyone is pretty thoroughly intoxicated – the kids too, from what I saw! How devious of you.”

Kurogane’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he stripped away the boots and tossed them to the side. “Just be  _quiet_ ,” he growled, and then, almost inaudibly, added, “And it’s sure as hell better than the stables.”

“Yes,” Fay agreed, spreading his arms out to the sides for support as the mat below him bobbed and waved with Kurogane’s shifting weight, “That horse really did like you too much.”

Kurogane’s hand pressed into the mat next to him, sending Fay’s head slipping down the newly formed slope to crash on top of it. “You were the one trying to feed it that damned pretzel,” he hissed. He was wearing that particularly feral look that generally indicated a need for less talking and more stripping, and as if to really drive that point home, he tugged roughly at the sleeves of Fay’s coat, attempting to free the wizard of its confines with sharp, jerky motions.

Fay laughed and squirmed beneath him, sliding his hips forward ever-so-slightly to straddle the knee resting between his legs as Kurogane loomed over him on all fours. He shirked his shoulders, wiggling himself free of the jacket Kurogane was having no luck removing, and flung the obstructing garment toward the corner of the of the tent. He grinned back up at Kurogane, “Well, if you would have let me have the roasted almonds, it wouldn’t have been an iss-”

Fay suddenly found himself wrenched upward, sitting atop the knee he had not-so-subtly been rubbing himself against only seconds earlier, his mouth too occupied by the twisted waltz Kurogane’s tongue led to finish forming his thought. There was one large hand at his back, dipping beneath the waistline of his trousers to free the tails of his shirt in one swift motion before creeping back up to brace his shoulder, and a second fumbling beneath his chin, loosing the tightly drawn knots of his bowtie. The tie fell away almost effortlessly, Fay noted with a hint of despair – he was wearing them far too often if they’re no longer producing the requisite amount of cursing with their untangling – he’d have to find something to replace them if that was the case…

His shirt fluttered free to join its discarded brethren, and suddenly the hand at his shoulders was gone, leaving him to flop back against the mat. Kurogane was on him again before the air beneath him recoiled and sent him bouncing back up, mouth hot and hungry and working a wet trail from his ear down to his collar bone. Fay hummed languidly and snaked an arm up to weave his fingers through black spikes as Kurogane descended his torso, and rasped out a breathy cry as sharp teeth closed around a nipple. He pulled roughly at the hair in his grasp in retaliation, and Kurogane let go with a snort, treating him instead to light nips down the side of his abdomen as his belt and pants were whipped away with all the delicacy of a gale force wind. Warm lips covered his cock, and, for the first time since he had landed in this golden monstrosity, Fay enjoyed the utter formlessness of the air mat below him as his back arched and shoulders pressed deep into its depths. His fingers played through Kurogane’s hair, the rough strands slipping around and within their creases as Kurogane rose and dipped, sucking a sharp spike of sensation upward and soothing it back down with a skillful tongue.

Fay moaned and strained to sit, but found it incredibly difficult with the give of the mattress counteracting his every movement.  He looped his legs loosely around Kurogane’s waist, desperate for leverage, and finally managed to drag himself into a half-sitting position, balanced precariously back against his elbows. Kurogane’s gaze flicked up to meet his own as he sank down again, and Fay decided in that instant that the ninja was wearing far too much clothing. He slid his heels down from where they rested just atop Kurogane’s hips to hook them around the other man’s ass and flexed his knees, pulling forward fractionally against the billowing resistance of the mattress. Kurogane released him with a disgruntled “ _Mmph_ ,” and cocked an eyebrow as Fay shimmied the rest of the distance beneath him, heels of his feet still digging into Kurogane’s ass. “Not enjoying yourself?” he grunted as Fay slowed to a halt.

“Shut up, Kuro-tan,” Fay grinned and yanked his head down to kiss him again. He was generous enough to peel only one arm of Kurogane’s shirt away at a time, allowing the ninja to keep some semblance of balance as he did, but lost all patience as he tugged – or  _attempted_  to tug – the heavy black trousers down past Kurogane’s hips and resorted to clawing with both hands and even working a knee into the struggle. This ended about as well as expected, with the resulting scuffle sending shockwaves through the mattress and Kurogane dropping onto his belly to avoid being flung off to the side completely. Fay coughed and sputtered as the ninja landed – full force – on his chest, but was ultimately triumphant in divesting Kurogane of what little clothing he had left, and wrapped his legs tightly around the other man’s waist as they lay, stroking their groins together with the movement and earning a contented hum in return. Kurogane responded in kind by digging his toes into the canvas floor and surging forward slowly, his hips keeping a gentle rhythm of press and pull as his mouth found its way back to Fay’s ear to tease and nibble at its lobe. 

Fay’s hands roved wantonly over Kurogane’s back as he arched into him, the skin smooth and slick with sweat and oil. His fingers traced light patterns over the peaks and valleys of rippling muscle, poking into the dimples at the small of Kurogane’s back, and trailing down over the taught lobes of the ninja’s ass, which he greeted with a sharp  _SMACK_. Kurogane’s hips jerked forward with a start. “ _Bastard_ ,” he hissed against the shell of Fay’s ear.

“You like it,” Fay grinned, but leaned his head back into the mattress, away from Kurogane’s, “Where’s my pants, Kuro-pon?” he mumbled absently.

Kurogane stopped moving altogether, “What?”

Fay mumbled something incoherent and groped blindly at the floor around them while Kurogane stared. “Aha!” he cried victoriously a moment later as he yanked the pair of trousers back toward them by a cuff. He fished through the pockets for a moment before producing a bottle of lubricant.

Kurogane smirked. “ _Planning ahead?”_

“A happy coincidence,” Fay sang as he pooled a generous amount into his palm and rubbed his hands together, “Would you prefer something else? Because I can go buy some of those almonds you wouldn’t let me have earlier. Might be a bit sticky, though…”

Kurogane rolled his eyes and dragged one of Fay’s busily massaging hands down to wrap around his cock. “Don’t waste it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Fay assured him, watching the subtle contortions of Kurogane’s face as he rolled and stroked his cock, laving it with the remainder of oil on his hand, “But I think…  _Up_.” He tapped at Kurogane’s shoulder with his free hand.

“Huh?” Kurogane’s face contorted with confusion now.

“Get up,” Fay instructed, pushing fruitlessly, “On your back.”

Kurogane was somewhat loath to move, and even more loath to break the contact between them, but eased himself back on his haunches as Fay’s feet slipped away, then dropped to his back expectantly. Fay took his sweet time – snickering quietly at Kurogane’s impatient grunts – pinning Kurogane’s knees together with his own and running the palms of his hands up over his thighs, digging his fingers into the taut muscle along the sides as he eased his torso forward. It was difficult to keep from flopping over to one side as the floor shifted beneath him, and doubly so once he lifted one of his bracing hands to reach for the bottle he had dropped. He stared appraisingly at Kurogane for a few seconds as he fumbled, eyes narrowing in thought. He secured the bottle and deposited a generous blob across the crown of Kurogane’s cock, grinning wickedly as he quickly smoothed and swiped the lube along the shaft with a single finger.

He reached to the side again, but this time grabbed hold of his discarded pants and dragged them toward himself, completely ignoring Kurogane’s exasperated expression as he did so. He judged the distance carefully, then slung one leg up and over one of the rope supports helping to shape the monstrosity and gripped the cuffs tightly, hauling himself up hand over hand.

“What are you doing?” Kurogane demanded.

“I’d think that would be obvious, Kuro-buu,” Fay grinned as he shuffled his knees forward to straddle Kurogane’s stomach, still hanging from the trousers. He let go one hand and grasped Kurogane’s wrist, dragging it to rest at his hip. “Give me a hand here.”

Understanding finally softened Kurogane’s face and he lifted his other hand to join the first at Fay’s hips. Fay dug his knees deeper into the canvas below as Kurogane’s palms smoothed firmly across his ass, his fingers dipping between and spreading his cheeks, all the while pushing down, down,  _down_. Fay gasped and gripped more tightly at the material in his hands as Kurogane entered him and impaled him slowly, each inch slipping deeper with a delicious burn that singed straight to his breast bone. He allowed his shoulders to slacken as he seated himself, bearing down as much as he could to accommodate the whole of Kurogane within him and enjoying the sight of Kurogane’s head kicking into the mat and the  _feel_  of being so utterly joined and filled and oh  _god_  he wanted  _more_ -

With Kurogane’s fingertips digging into the flesh of his ass, he cycled his hips slowly, dragging himself laboriously forward and bracing himself against the shift of the mattress with the pantlegs. The fiery strain in his shoulders blossomed more with each thrust downward, contrasting sharply to the gentle play of fingertips roaming across his abdomen, his thighs, up across his chest. His abdomen tensed with every ticklish impulse, threatening to tip him completely, but he held tight to his support and brought himself crashing down harder, faster, riding more furiously even as the material dig into his fingers and threatened friction burns across the backs of his hands.

Kurogane’s hands gripped his hips with newfound ferocity as he sped their rhythm, their blunt nails scraped against his skin, hauling him forward, backward, up, down. The floor beneath them convulsed in earnest as Kurogane surged his hips upward to meet Fay’s downstrokes, sending the both of the rollicking upward and sideward and anywhere but where they intended to be. Fay gasped amidst the frenzy as a hand wrapped firmly around his cock and stroked, pulling his movements into a more gentle rhythm that slowed the bouncing but did nothing to quell the slow twisting of ice in his abdomen. He could feel it pooling, slowly building, threatening to spill over any second as he rocked and murmured incoherent nonsense. There was a sudden and forceful CRACK across his ass and, for a moment, he felt as though he might break as every muscle tensed and held, his vision blurred, a wave of cold washed him from head to toe. 

And then the grip at his cock loosened and he felt Kurogane quake and shudder beneath him, some primitive, guttural curse eeking through his lips as his face contorted in ecstasy. Fay tensed and worked a final slow circle with hips, dragging the curse out as long as he could before he fell limp against the dangling trousers. Kurogane’s fingers were back at his sides, gently stroking oblique patterns there. Fay opened one eye a crack and flashed him a lazy smile. “Hi.”

Kurogane grinned stupidly. “Hi.”

Fay chuckled to himself and let go the cuffs, flopping down on top of Kurogane’s chest and burring his face in his neck. He stunk of musk and sex, and small rivulets of sweat rolled down from his hairline, pooling in the creases of Fay’s nose. He grinned and lifted himself onto his elbows to stare into Kurogane’s face. The ninja was still grinning like an idiot and Fay couldn’t help the smirk that crept across his face. “Must have been good if you’re this stupid afterward.”

“My toes are tingly.”

“Mmm,” Fay agrees. His were too, but it was a lot of trouble to talk just then and he’d already expended  _so_  much of his energy reserves just to produce that little jab. So instead he stared and grinned and kissed the tip of Kurogane’s nose, his fingers weaving into sweat-soaked hair all the while. Outside, the music was getting louder and the crowd more active, but Fay really couldn’t be bothered to care and slipped easily down to rest in the crook of Kurogane’s arm. His fingers traced ticklish lines across the ninja’s chest until met by mechanical ones and intertwined loosely.

“We should go find Syaoran,” Fay murmured after a few minutes have passed, “He’s probably looking for us.”

“I think he’s learned his lesson about that by now, don’t you?”

Fay frowns and swatted at Kurogane’s hand, “Don’t be awful.”

“I’m just being honest,” Kurogane yawned and rolls onto his side, tucking Fay’s head beneath his chin.

“We’re the worst parents, ever,” Fay groaned and huffed against Kurogane’s Adam’s apple

“We’re not-”

“We’re the worst role-models ever, then,” Fay corrected sharply and sighed, wondering if this is true. It probably was. “On the other hand, it would probably be worse if we fought all the time…”

“Can we not talk about Syaoran right now?” Kurogane groaned, his breaths growing steadily slower and more relaxed.

“Right,” Fay smiled, “I forgot, you’re still stupid.” He happily obliged and blew a stream of cold air against Kurogane’s neck, happy when the ninja broke out in goosepimples accordingly. They could find Syaoran later.

* * *

 _The sigil must be drawn thirty-six pargots in diameter and its protruding spearheads pushed outward from the inner margin of the circumference, without disrupting the uniformity of its width. These may be spaced at forty-five or ninety-degree angles, depending upon the size of the elemental the conjurer wishes to summon, spreading-_

 

 **  
_BOOM_   
**

“I certainly hope that wasn’t the intended purpose of that spell.”

Fay looked up from the book he was frantically poring over to find Ashura hovering in the doorway of his chambers, grimacing at the remains of the bookshelf Fay had just relieved of its shelves. “Ahaha,” he laughed nervously, “No, I… I didn’t mean for it to do  _that_.”

“You’re rushing through your studies again,” Ashura chided. He traced a scrolling message through the air, and before Fay was able to blink, had returned the shelf to its original state and alphabetized the books resting there. “You’re stressing yourself, I think. You’re constantly alone with your face crammed into a book – wouldn’t you be happier spending some time with others? Friends, lovers?”

Fay laughed at this and stared down into the pages of the book. He didn’t have  _time_  to waste with frivolities, never knowing when he would be called on to guide the princess of the desert. Besides which, he was perfectly happy with the company of Ashura and Fay and certainly didn’t consider himself worthy of  _more_. And even if he  _were_ , Ashura was wearing that wistful smile once again – the one that he wore whenever speaking of love or lust or sex or anything that reminded him of General Taishakuten – and it broke Fay’s heart to see it. The general had reappeared recently after a conspicuous and lengthy absence, toting a child that looked suspiciously like the Queen and bore the Duke of Ostwald’s family name of Tennou.  _Boredom_ , Ashura had told him when he had asked,  _boredom and his own inability to keep the general satisfied._  

It sounded ridiculous and, moreover, it sounded like a massive drain of energy and time – neither of which Fay could afford to spare. He laughed again, forcing the sound out from where it caught in his throat. “I think, Your Majesty,” he said calmly, “That relationships of that sort are a bit too expensive for my taste.”

The king regarded him sadly for a moment, but sighed and nodded in agreement, “That they are.”

* * *

“Headache” is not sufficient to describe the spiking flashes of pain flaring against Kurogane’s temples and sparking across his vision. He’s utterly exhausted after only a day in Clow. This is partially the fault of the wine, of which he indulged in more than his fair share of at dinner (after all, everyone else certainly was and damned if he was going to put up with being called a light weight), but it’s mostly the fault of the blond pile of sulk worming its way into the space between his shoulder blades. It’s angry and needy, and it’s driving Kurogane insane.

“Let go,” he insists, “I’m exhausted and I have a splitting headache.”

“But Kuro-rinta!” Fay whines, “We’re back in our own room and everything! And we’ve got all night and you said-”

“And then you got drunk and I got to carry you around. And now I need sleep,” he rolls over to stare into Fay’s pleading face, “So  _sleep_.”

“But Kuro-rin,” Fay pouts again and snakes a hand between their bodies, dipping beneath the waist band of Kurogane’s shorts, “Look, you’ve got a half stack already… Wouldn’t it be better to-”

“No,” he grinds out between clenched teeth and plucks the hand away, “Now,  _good night_.” He plants a rough kiss on Fay’s forehead and rolls back onto his side, breathing a sigh of relief as he feels the wizard slink back onto his own side of the mattress.

What the hell is  _with_  him today?

* * *

 Never do for oneself what one’s lover can easily accomplish.  
 _Celesian proverb_

* * *

Thinking on it, he can pin point the exact moment he should have realized something was amiss. (That’s a rotten lie – he can’t put a date to it, but he can remember the events quite clearly.) It’s the middle of the night, the room is silent, and his bladder has somehow engorged to the size of a small melon. He tries to ignore it, tries to settle back into the sheets and drift back to sleep, but it’s an uncomfortable and, above all else,  _insistent_  need. He kicks off the blankets and scrambles to his feet, making a beeline for the adjoining bathroom before the cold can prick at his bare legs. It’s only after he’s closed the door behind him (and partially collapsed against the back of it) that he notices the steam rising from the shower and the splash of running water hitting the tiles.

He goes about his business, mostly oblivious to the noise and damp around him, and turns to leave again without disturbing whoever is showering, but, just as he grips the door handle, there is an unmistakable “ _Urrunfff_ ” from the shower and he freezes in his tracks. Curious, and now quite certain that it is Kurogane behind the curtain, he draws the material back and is treated to an eyeful of sleek, dripping ninja. He’s leaning with one forearm against the tile wall, his shoulders tensed and back rippling, and breathing heavily enough to drive most of the steam away from his face. He looks incredibly sexy, and would look even sexier were it not for the white mess splashed across the wall and look of shame and embarrassment twisting his sharp features.

Fay chuckles, leans in for a kiss, and skips back to bed.

He hadn’t thought much about it at the time; it seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do.

He wishes he had.

* * *

Fay’s favorite part of Clow (apart from Sakura) are the night breezes. Crisp and clean, they’re strong enough to flutter the heavy curtains that open onto the room’s multiple balconies and waft coolly across the mattress, but usually not strong enough to disturb his sleep or chill him to the bone. Tonight, however, they’re more aggravating than anything else as they breathe wispily across him, tickling his nose and sending strands of his hair floating into the air as he lies sprawled out across the overly-pillowed mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

His eyes burn, his mind is racing; he’s had too much to drink and has now passed directly through the drowsiness into the aftershock insomnia and accompanying gut rot. There’s an incredible amount of room on this half of the bed, with Kurogane rolled onto his side at the opposite end and facing the wall, and he feels the vastness particularly acutely in the dark tonight. On a different night, he might roll over, fold himself to fit along the contours of Kurogane’s back, rest his cheek against his shoulder, maybe nibble lightly at his neck… 

But tonight he’s still smarting from the sting of rejection – no matter how mild it may have been – and the distance between them seems insurmountable. He’s angry, mostly at himself, for letting things slip so far away from him, for becoming too comfortable, for being too wrapped up in…whatever the hell it is he’s been wrapped up in and not paying enough attention and –  _GAH_.

He whips himself irritably out from under the covers and stands, raking a hand through his hair and yanking at the ends. His palms itch with the same frustration burns his eyes and tenses his shoulders and it’s all so much worse because he can’t help but look back at the bed and  _know_ that Kurogane is dreaming happily right now just by the way he’s breathing. And he  _knows_  he should probably just crawl back into the bed, shirk off the sting, and continue on as normal because that seems to be what is expected of him, but a million little warning bells are sounding in his consciousness, ringing with half-forgotten memories and disregarded warnings of dead men. He knows –  _he knows_  – this is  _Kurogane_ , goddamn it, and not some pompous, strutting general with an over-inflated ego and this is  _different_  but the feeling  _won’t shake out of his limbs_ …

He’s crossed the threshold to the curtains before he even realizes it and snaps them shut behind him. The balcony is eerily silent and the breeze is  _so_  much colder without the curtains trapping its harshness, but feels oddly refreshing as it whips through his hair and chills his skin. The air is thick as he inhales and cool as it flits down his throat fills his lungs; it feels substantial, like it gives him weight. Keeps him grounded. He leans over the railing to stare blankly at the town below. It’s cathartic – the city below is barely awake and few specks of light that do move, float with a dreamy cadence – up down up down, zig left, zag right – that he can follow without too much thought. An empty head really is best at times like these.

He knows Kurogane is standing behind him before the disgruntled cough even reaches his ears. “What are you doing out here, Kuro-tan,” Fay asks quietly, barely turning his head over his shoulder, “Can’t sleep without me?”

“You  _know_  I can’t,” Kurogane says simply and leans back against a pillar. He crosses his arms over his chest, staring irritably off into the sky, and mumbles, “Bed’s empty. Too damned quiet.”

Fay cracks a smile – the first in what feels like forever – and snorts. He’s an idiot, and he knows Kurogane would agree – he knows practically  _everything_  Kurogane would think – but that simple confession (the one that’s so  _like_  him and yet Fay is well aware that he’s the only one who ever sees this side of the ninja) feels as if it’s shattered the load he’s been carrying and the shards are sprinkling down around his feet and shining in the moonlight. He  _knows_. He turns himself against the railing and leans back onto his elbow as a devious grin takes his face. “Did you need me to sing you back to sleep?”

Kurogane narrows one eye and sighs, “If that’s what it takes to get you to come back…”

Fay balks for a moment before laughing once again, “I told you, Kuro-sama, joking really doesn’t suit you.”

“ _Feh_.”

“Moderately reasonable indeed,” Fay smiles lopsidedly and picks at his fingernails. The creeping unease is pushing its way back up through his momentary peace and threatening to burst free all over again. He takes a deep breath and pushes off the railing, wobbling on his feet a bit as he draws up courage.  “Are you… _bored_?”

“ _Hah_?” Kurogane’s face is contorted into a glorious mess, the likes of which Fay has not seen in ages, “What the hell do you mean  _bored_?”

“I-” he takes a step forward, clenching his hands into fists, “With me. With our…relationship. Bouncing around space and time and all that.”

Kurogane lifts an eyebrow and smirks, “Is this why you’ve been acting like a complete idiot all day?”

“I-” Fay catches himself, realizing this is in no way the response he had anticipated, “What?”

Kurogane rolls his eyes and closes the distance between them with two massive strides. “You,” he says slowly and shakes Fay’s shoulders, “Idiot. You think I’m  _bored_  because I didn’t want to indulge your groping fetish in front of the royal family?”

“Well when you put it like that it just sounds silly,” Fay mumbles, staring at the ground, “It’s not just that though. Recently…well, it’s not  _been_  recently, if you follow.”

Kurogane’s face wrinkles in a way that very much suggested that no, he didn’t have the faintest fecking clue what Fay means by that, but relaxes a moment later into a frown. “Can’t have been that long.”

Fay socks him playfully, “I’m telling you it has. And not that  _I_  mind – too much, anyway – but I worry that you’re drifting…”

“ _Tche_ ,” Kurogane scoffs irritably, “Why would you- Why would  _I_ - Y-you’re an idiot.”

“So you keep saying.”

Kurogane exhales deeply and grips the sides of Fay’s head, pulling him closer to press his lips against the blond hairline. “But you’re my idiot,” he mumbles, “And you’ll be my idiot tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, so it’s not like there’s a burning need to…I don’t know…get it all out of the way at once. And,” he cranes his neck back to stare down at Fay with the scowl that always means that the words about to follow are  _never_  to be repeated in front of anyone else, ever, lest all involved parties be consumed by the wrath of an angry ninja, “I  _like_  it this way. It feels like…home.”

“You…” Fay closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He can’t handle this. He can’t handle… _sappyKurogane_ , even though the sentiment has hit home and what he would really like to do is burrow into the ninja’s chest and never leave. It’s not right, though, and he beats his fist playfully against Kurogane’s shoulder instead, “Who are you and what have you done with my cranky ninja? I don’t think I can trust a word you say, you lying cow. In fact-”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Kurogane abruptly shuts down Fay’s growing laughter down with a fierce kiss, apparently intent on sucking every last bit of breath out of him. He looks appropriately pleased as Fay pants and gasps for air when they’re parted.  “Are you happy?” he asks, seriously.

Fay nods and leans into his chest; burrowing was not such a bad idea after all... He  _is_  happy, he’s _been_  happy, he’s mostly been afraid that he’s been  _blinded_  by his happiness. And yet, maybe it  _is_ time for a change… “I’ve been thinking,” he mumbles against Kurogane’s skin, “Maybe the next time we’re in Nihon… Maybe we could stay there longer.”

“We have to leave when the earring glows.”

“Well, Syaoran does…” Fay trails off as he feels Kurogane tense against him and wonders if he’s gone one step too far. He should know better – Kurogane won’t want to leave Syaoran on his own. They’ve all grown accustomed to being together over these past years and it would be far too difficult to separate. It was a stupid thought, after all; he’s not thinking clearl-

“We’ll talk to the kid about it,” Kurogane says quietly, “He’s gotten some good leads in the past few months – he might be able to do something with them. And then… He’s a grown man, after all,” he finishes dumbly.

“And all good children must fly the nest someday,” Fay agrees, “And leave their parents far behind…”

“Oh for the  _last_ -” Kurogane sighs, “Nevermind. We might as well be his parents anyway.” He rubs Fay’s shoulder a bit to roughly, and Fay’s wobbles from side to side across his chest.  “Don’t go getting all sentimental,” he groans, “I said we’d  _talk_  to him. And this was  _your idea_!”

“Sorry, Kuro-rin,” Fay chuckles, “Early-onset empty nest syndrome.”

“ _Che_.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Fay sings, smiling, and winds his arms beneath Kurogane’s shoulders.

“Good,” Kurogane smirks, “Now come back to bed. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Hmm,” Fay grabs Kurogane’s hand and lifts the curtains that lead back into the bedroom, “I’ll come back to bed, but I think I feel a headache coming on.” He pulls back the blankets with a swish and flopps onto the mattress, dragging one arm up over his face in mock despair.

“Who said anything about your head?” Kurogane demands, stripping the blankets away from the bed entirely and dropping them in a messy heap on the floor.

“I have a cockache, too.”

“Liar,” Kurogane’s hand cracks loudly against the side of his ass and sends an excited shudder up his spine.

“And now that hurts, too,” Fay cries, sniffling, “All possibilities for sex are now off the table – all bridges crippled, all ports of entry closed. Please call again in the morning. Or maybe the morning after that. Or the morning after  _that_  ev-” He’s cut off midstream by a pillow  _thwacking_  down over his face, which Kurogane somehow manages to keep pinned down as he crawls onto the mattress. He releases Fay’s face a moment later, only to pull him bodily back against his own chest in a crushing embrace.

“Whatever, just take up space so I can sleep.”

 _  
_


End file.
